


out of time

by rierin



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Dom/sub, First Meetings, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Romance, Rough Sex, Unrequited Love, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29883132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rierin/pseuds/rierin
Summary: Arthur has been in love with Alfred ever since they met, but to Alfred, he's just a friend and an easy fuck. Things get complicated further when a handsome stranger comes into the picture.
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia), England/Portugal (Hetalia)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	out of time

**Author's Note:**

> just to warn you, i haven't yet decided who arthur will end up with lol.  
> this is for a prompt i got on tumblr: usuk + porteng, jealousy, sub bottom england, lots of kinky sex  
> ngl jealousy is not my thing but this is the first prompt i got so i decided to write it no matter what lol. i hope you enjoy it anon!

It's uncomfortable. The arm of the seat is digging into his back and the back of his head keeps bumping against the window as Alfred manhandles him. Alfred pays it no mind, fully focused on getting Arthur out of his pants as fast as possible.  
  


"You know, I could just blow you," Arthur says even as he raises his hips to make it easier for Alfred to pull his underwear off. He tries not to think about how anyone could just walk past the car and see him naked. Technically, they stopped in a completely deserted area. But who knows, maybe there's someone living in the forest? "Or you could wait," he lets annoyance sip into his voice. "We're literally twenty minutes away from the town."  
  


"No, I want to be inside you. Right now."  
  


Arthur's breath hitches. He's angry with himself for allowing the smallest things Alfred says affect him this much. He knows to Alfred it's purely physical; he wants to get off and he's decidedly an ass guy. And yet, Arthur's heart is foolish. Always hoping for something. Even though those hopes get squashed over and over, they never fail to arise again.  
  


He's about to point out there's no lube in the car— it's a car they rented at the airport and Arthur already feels sorry for whoever rents it next— when Alfred puts a bottle out of his jacket pocket. Arthur really shouldn't be surprised.  
  


It's rushed and clumsy. Not that Arthur needs much preparation, Alfred fucked him just before they left for the plane, bending him over the table, taking him as he pleased, the way he always does. Because Arthur always lets him, even if he complains sometimes.  
  


Arthur bites the back of his hand when Alfred enters him. He might be fairly well stretched now but Alfred is big and he pushes in fast. It's not exactly painful but it's uncomfortable, makes him choke on his breath as he tries to stop himself from crying out, but he can't deny he loves it. He loves feeling so full his mind turns blank.  
  


"Fuck yes," Alfred groans as Arthur squeezes around his cock. "You feel so good."  
  


Arthur feels himself flush and he hates it, how easy he is, for such a vulgar praise to make him react this way. He hides his face behind his hand, but it's not like Alfred is paying attention; he immediately starts thrusting, hard and fast, making Arthur's body bounce from the force of it. Arthur takes it without protest; he grips the edge of the seat in an attempt to steady himself and lets Alfred use him for his own pleasure.

It's exactly what Alfred does every time, paying little attention to whether Arthur likes it or not, but a sick masochistic part of Arthur enjoys it. Being used like a fucktoy. And it's shameful, but he wouldn't be able to hide it even if he tried. His body would betray him anyway. His cock, completely untouched, is fully hard leaking precome against his stomach and he can barely stop himself from moaning as Alfred fucks into him roughly, filling him so good with every thrust.  
  


Alfred's grip on his hips is borderline painful, the position is awkward, and he can't even comfortably touch himself, but he loves it anyway, loves being taken like this, rough and uncaring. God, he really is easy. Is it because he's so hopelessly in love with Alfred or is he just a slut?  
  


A few more thrusts and Alfred comes inside him; Arthur can feel his cock pulse inside, can feel the warm release filling him and before he knows, he's coming too.  
  


The moment the high ends and he catches his breath, the self-hatred hits him. It's been getting worse. He hates himself for enjoying this. His body might like being treated this way, but his mind doesn't appreciate it.  
  


"Uh... the wet wipes are in the suitcase," Alfred says, grinning sheepishly, in a way that suggests he's not going to bother looking for them. Arthur glares at him.  
  


"You could've at least used a condom."  
  


"Why would I? It's not like you have sex with anyone else."  
  


The comment stings. But it's not untrue. Even though they're just friends with benefits and Alfred definitely sleeps around, Arthur can't bring himself to do it with anyone else. But Alfred's teasing comment doesn't suggest that Arthur might be attached— no, Alfred is as oblivious as a rock. It's just a jab at Arthur's lack of other options.  
  


"But you do," he says through gritted teeth.  
  


Alfred laughs airily, the way he does when he wants to avoid arguing. Arthur grabs his bag and finds some tissues. He cleans himself up as well as he can, completely ignoring Alfred's offer to help. He knows Alfred doesn't really want to, unless it's to somehow poke fun at Arthur.  
  


Arthur had always found Alfred's teasing annoying, but these days, it hurts more than angers him. Friends teasing each other is normal. But when you mix sex and unrequited love into it... He knows he's getting unreasonably sensitive, but he can't do anything about it.  
  


"Ready?" Alfred asks cheerily once Arthur manages to pull his pants back on and fasten the seatbelt.  
  


"Yeah," Arthur sighs and turns away to look through the window. It's getting harder and harder to even look at Alfred after they fuck. It hurts, the way he acts like it means absolutely nothing to him. But it's not like Arthur can give it up.  
  


It's all he has.  
  


~*~  
  


The hotel room is not much to look at. Francis reserved it, but he backed out of the trip last minute, saying he got a photo-shoot offer that he couldn't refuse. Bastard frog, Arthur thinks as his eyes sweep over the dirty walls, stained with something yellowy which Arthur doesn't even want to identify. At least the bed sheets look clean and the bathroom is tolerable, although Arthur still showers in slippers and avoids touching anything as much as possible.  
  


His mood sours further, but he tries to tell himself it doesn't matter. They're not here to sit in the room, anyway. He wants to make the most of the trip; he's always wanted to go to Portugal.  
  


Alfred, for one, doesn't seem bothered. He puts on some annoying loud music on his phone and unpacks, singing along. He takes up the entire closet like he can't see there's only one in the room. Arthur scowls and he's about to argue, but then he changes his mind. The closet doesn't look clean, either. He can just as well keep his clothes in the suitcase.  
  


He dresses quickly, opting for simple jeans and a red sweater. It's already evening and it's getting pretty chilly outside but he still wants to go to the beach.  
  


"You're not going clubbing like this, right?" Alfred asks looking him up and down. "Not that I know much about fashion, but..."  
  


"I'm going on a walk," Arthur replies. "What, are you going clubbing? You do remember we're going sightseeing first thing in the morning?"  
  


Alfred laughs. "A walk? You really are an old man."  
  


"I'm only four years older than you, you git,” Arthur huffs. “And I'm pretty sure I can outdrink you. I just don't want to." He _does_ want to go out drinking eventually but not tonight.  
  


Alfred shrugs, smiling. "Suit yourself. I'm hoping to pick up someone fun for the night."  
  


The way he says it, Arthur has the impression he means _someone more interesting than you._ _Better than you_. Maybe it's just him being oversensitive again, but it hurts.  
  


"Whatever.”

He grabs one of the keys and leaves, shutting the door with more force than necessary. Only after he leaves the hotel he realizes he didn't take his bag, so he has no money and no phone. The idea of returning so soon after that dramatic exit is unbearable, too.  
  


This is going great so far, he thinks bitterly.  
  


~*~  
  


The walk to the beach lifts his mood, and it gets even better once he sees the ocean. The sun has already set so there's nearly no people, but the sky is still beautiful, hues of pink and orange above the horizon, fading to gray and blue higher up. He takes his shoes off, rolls up his pants and steps into the water. It's surprisingly pleasant, warmed after the day of intense sun and heat, and the waves gently caress his feet. He takes a deep breath and just stands there, looking at the seemingly endless ocean in front of him. He thinks he could stay like this forever, feeling so small and at the same time infinite, a part of something so great human mind can't fully comprehend it.  
  


Suddenly, he hears a voice behind him. It's warm and deep, and he turns even before he understands the words.  
  


"Hey! Excuse me! Are these shoes yours?"  
  


There's a man standing behind him. The first thing Arthur notices is that he's topless, and his gaze involuntarily pauses at the toned muscles and tanned skin. What he notices next, is that the man is gorgeous— not just his body, his face, too. He has warm, dark eyes, straight nose and full lips, and long, brown hair tied into a ponytail. To make things even more unfair, he has the sweetest, most charming smile and a beauty mark under his right eye. Arthur stares at him stupidly, wondering if the man is some kind of sea god, because he surely can't be human.  
  


"The shoes!" the stranger repeats. Only then Arthur realizes he's holding something in his hands— Arthur's sneakers. He'd left them in the sand just a few meters behind before walking into the water.  
  


"Yes, they're mine," he confirms, puzzled. The man's smile turns apologetic, but not even a little less mesmerizing.  
  


"Well, I'm afraid my dog chewed on them." He points to a big dog beside him. It has the most innocent expression, its tongue hanging out as it wags its tail enthusiastically.  
  


Arthur stares, dumbfounded. And then he lets out a startled laugh. A dog trying to eat his shoes is a very creative addition to today's bad luck. But somehow, he's not mad at all.  
  


"It's okay," he says, stepping out of water. The stranger hands him the shoes; they left one is indeed a bit chewed out but it's still intact. "They're just cheap sneakers."  
  


"Glad you didn't wear your favorite expensive heels to the beach," the man says, tone playful. He has a lovely accent that makes him sound like he's singing the words instead of speaking them.  
  


Arthur grins. "Only because I was saving them for tomorrow."  
  


The man laughs and Arthur thinks it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.  
  


"May I ask your name?"  
  


Arthur blinks, surprised that someone this hot finds him interesting enough to ask his name. It's not that he thinks he's ugly, but he knows he's nothing special. And this guy is definitely in the special category.  
  


"It's Arthur."  
  


"Nice to meet you, Arthur." The man gives a small, adorable smile, and— he has a dimple on one side. Wow, Arthur thinks, God clearly favorites. "I'm João. And this," he points to the dog which is now sniffing at something buried in the sand, "is Alex. Named after the Madagascar lion."  
  


Arthur chuckles. "Nice to meet you too."  
  


"Are you here on vacation?"  
  


Arthur tilts his head. "What gave me away?"  
  


"Well, your pale skin, for one," João grins. "And you just seem… very British."  
  


"Somehow I feel like that's not a compliment."  
  


"Quite the contrary," João says, but he doesn't elaborate, to Arthur's great disappointment. Instead, he asks, "You probably want to dry your feet?" And he points to a bench near the entrance to the beach. They walk over to it and Alex trots after them happily. Once Arthur is seated, the dog stops right in front of him and looks at him expectantly. Arthur pets his head with a smile and he wags his tail.  
  


"He likes you," João says. He didn't sit next to Arthur, for which Arthur is thankful; the bench is small and João is not wearing enough clothes. "But to be fair he likes everyone."  
  


Arthur snorts. "And here I thought I was special." He lifts one of his feet and attempts to brush off the wet sand.  
  


"If it makes you feel any better, you're only the third person whose shoes he tried to eat this week."  
  


Arthur laughs at that, and he's almost surprised by how it's not forced at all. When was the last time he was able to laugh like that?  
  


"I'm flattered."  
  


"So, to make up for the shoe, how about I treat you to coffee and ice cream tomorrow? There's the loveliest cafe not far from here, they have the best ice cream you can get in the entire country."  
  


Arthur's so surprised for a moment he just stares. João is giving him a warm, inviting smile, his eyes crinkled, and fuck, he's so gorgeous. Did he really just ask Arthur out?  
  


But. He's here with Alfred. He's in love with Alfred. And they're still supposed to go sightseeing tomorrow.  
  


His heart sinks a little at the thought of saying no, but he does it anyway.  
  


"I'm sorry, I already have plans for tomorrow."  
  


João shakes his head. "No big deal. Do you want my number? In case you change your mind?"  
  


Arthur reaches for his bag— and then he remembers. Bloody hell, he thinks, I am an idiot.  
  


"Okay, I know how this sounds but— I left my phone at the hotel."  
  


João laughs, but it sounds a little forced. Arthur wonders if he believes him. Gods, maybe he thinks Arthur is straight. Or blind. Or just really stupid.  
  


"I guess it wasn't meant to be, huh?"  
  


Arthur forces a smile. He wants to protest, but he bites his tongue. He shouldn't take the guy's number, anyway. It's not like he wants to go out with him, it's just... nice to know someone this hot can be interested in him.  
  


"Hope you have a good time here! Maybe I'll see you around?"  
  


"Um, yeah, thanks!" Arthur replies, and João waves at him with a soft smile, then walks away, whistling at Alex to follow him.  
  


Arthur has the urge to stop him, feels like something important is slipping out of his hands— but it's not like he can do anything about it.  
  


~*~  
  


Alfred is not there when Arthur gets back. He's not surprised. There's a small TV in the room, and Arthur turns it on for background noise and scrolls through his social media. He replies to a few messages, sends Francis the ugliest photo of the room he was able to take, and then, feeling tired after a long day, he decides to go to sleep.  
  


He's awoken in the middle of the night when something heavy crawls on top of him. Alfred, he thinks drowsily. Arthur is lying on his stomach so he can't see, but he can guess Alfred is drunk. He strongly smells of alcohol and some flowery perfume that's definitely not his.  
  


"Alfred, what the fuck are you doing?" he asks in an angry whisper. "Go to your own bed."  
  


"Want you.. " Alfred mumbles, pulling the duvet off him. Arthur shivers, but he doesn't protest, sighing as Alfred presses against him again, nuzzling his neck. Arthur can feel Alfred's clothed erection pressing against his ass and the sensation makes him shiver. Fuck, he wants it.  
  


Easy, he thinks to himself, I'm too easy, but he lets Alfred lift his hips and pull his boxers off. Alfred fingers him clumsily, and it doesn't even feel good, but his body reacts just from having something inside. He hides his face in his arm as Alfred pushes his cock into him, muffling the small whine that escapes him. This position lets Alfred slide in so deep Arthur's trembling from the sensation. His hips instinctively jerk back to get Alfred's cock even deeper inside. Alfred leans over him as he starts fucking him, presses a kiss to his nape, something he never does sober.  
  


"Fucked a cute chick at the club," he mutters. "But this feels so much better. And I love how you're always ready for me..."  
  


Arthur closes his eyes. Can he pretend, at least for a moment, that those words mean something? He tries, but his heart feels hollow.  
  


Alfred picks up the pace and Arthur lifts himself up on his forearms to brace himself against the sharp, strong thrusts, biting his lip to stop himself from moaning. He ignores the tight, suffocating feeling in his chest; it's nothing new, there's no reason to worry about it.

  
  


He only realizes he's crying when he notices teardrops falling on the pillow below him.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i know the sex isnt really kinky yet but trust me it will get spicier  
> if anyone's reading this, please let me know what you think so far, i need to know this doesn't suck  
> and if you love hetalia and arthur be my friend on tumblr @rierin  
> you can also send me a prompt :) i accept angst, fluff, smut, anything really. just know you'll have to wait because i need to finish this fic first haha.  
> also... sorry for (probably) making arthur use american english


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